The FBI: House of Anubis Style
by melakhim
Summary: Fabian's world is thrown into turmoil when the new FBI Agent, Nina, is assigned to be his partner after his former FBI partner, Joy, resigns. Things get complicated when Fabian develops feelings for Nina and finds out that Joy may have been kidnapped. AU.
1. Replacements

**SO, LET'S GET THIS CRAP OUT OF THE WAY, SHALL WE?**

**A/N: So I've been reading a lot of murder mystery/thriller novels lately andI still have that post-House of Anubis depression. The result? This Fanfiction, of course!**

**Full Summary: Fabian Rutter's world is thrown into turmoil when the new FBI Agent, Nina Martin, is assigned to be his partner after his former FBI partner, Joy Mercer, resigns. Things get complicated when he develops feelings for Nina and finds out that Joy may have been kidnapped. Completely AU. Contains Fabina, Amfie, Jara, Peddie, and slight Jabian friendship.**

**Warning: This is COMPLETELY AU. I don't _plan_ on mentioning of Anubis House, the Mask of Anubis, etc. This story simply uses the characters and several canon pairings. The characters might be rather OOC because they're now adults with occupations, not teenagers in high school. Rated T for violence that will probably occur later on.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own House of Anubis. If I did, things would be a lot more intense and we'd have Season 3 already.**

* * *

><p>Agent Fabian Rutter took a quaff of green tea and set the mug back down quickly. He stared at the brew and decided that tomorrow he would switch back to black tea. The green tea not only had too little caffeine, but it also reminded him of Agent Joy Mercer.<p>

Fabian stood up and stretched, yawning as he did so. Today his FBI squad was back at the office, catching up on paperwork.

He picked up the inconspicuous white, ceramic mug and walked out of his office and down the hall, past the offices of the other agents in FBI Elite Squadron Seven. Jerome Clark's window shutters were closed, and Fabian was willing to bet that he was snogging Mara Jaffray. Eddie Miller and Patricia Williamson were having a heated debate in Eddie's office, and strains of their argument floated out into the hallway.

"I told you, Yakker," Eddie said, using his nickname for Patricia. "If no one else thinks they're connected, then I doubt Victor will."

"I _know_ these cases are connected somehow! These weird murders and Joy's sudden disappearance…" Patricia cried. "I know Joy was kidnapped!" Fabian quickly walked past the pair, not wanting to become involved in the argument, especially when it was about Joy.

Fabian reached the water fountain, but before he could pour the contents of his mug in there, he was interrupted by a voice.

"Agent Rutter." Fabian blinked and looked up to see Victor Rodenmaar Jr., the FBI team's administrator. His job was to oversee their actions and deal with the bureaucrats and politicians, but Victor never actually went out into the field with Fabian and the other Agents. Come to think of it, Fabian seriously doubted that Victor had even fired a gun.

"Yes, Mr. Rodenmaar?" Fabian asked. Victor was a stickler for rules and formal names, calling each of the agents on the team by their last names. He expected them to follow his example, but they never did.

"I would like you to gather all of the other agents in your squad and have them all meet in the conference room. I have an urgent matter that I must discuss with all of you." Victor's eye twitched slightly, the sole sign of the stress he was undergoing, what with one of the agents under his command having resigned and all.

Fabian felt his throat tighten slightly, but he managed to squeak out a, "Yes, Mr. Rodenmaar."

Victor nodded before strolling away towards the conference room, leaving Fabian standing by the water fountain with an almost full mug of green tea. Fabian blinked again then glanced back down at the drink he was holding, as if trying to recall what he was doing. After a second, he poured the green tea into the water fountain, vowing to get some black tea instead whenever time permitted.

Fabian then scurried back to his office and set down the mug before hurrying off yet again to round up his fellow agents.

"Amber!" He called to the blonde, who was doing her makeup.

Agent Amber Millington, out of Fabian's whole FBI team, was the one who was least _like_ an agent. In fact, she wasn't even a full agent. Amber acted as the team's FBI Liaison Officer, which was basically a fancy term for the Agent who dealt with the media and the really heavy paperwork. The only time Amber would put on a bulletproof Kevlar vest was if it matched her outfit, and it was a bad habit of hers to pair up couples.

"Yes, Fabian?" Amber asked, finishing her eye shadow and putting down her compact mirror.

"Conference room- Victor needs to talk to all of us." Fabian churned out the information rather robotically before moving on to the next office.

Next was Agent Patricia Williamson's office. Her office was a complete disaster- stacks of paper covered every surface in the room except for a small pathway on the floor that could be used to walk to Patricia's desk. Patricia herself was one of Fabian's more…aggressive agents. She was an incredibly formidable agent, but her hot-headedness got her into loads of trouble.

"Conference room." Fabian said. "Now. It's Victor."Patricia, who had finished arguing with Eddie, let a huffy sigh but didn't question him, which was unlike her. Usually she was sarcastic and had a biting remark, but ever since Joy, whom Patricia had been best friends with, had disappeared…

Fabian quickly moved on to Agent Alfred, or 'Alfie,' Lewis' office before nostalgia could overtake him.

He was surprised when no buckets of water fell on his head when he entered Alfie's office. Alfie was known to prank others excessively, but he was also one of the best agents when it came to technology in the field, from trip wires to hidden cameras. Today Alfie's normally frivolous, joking manner was gone, replaced by the frustration that came with paperwork and politicians.

"Hey, Alfie. Victor wants us in the conference room." He told Alfie. Alfie nodded to acknowledge that he'd heard.

Fabian then headed to Agent Jerome Clark's office, where he was talking with Agent Mara Jaffray, which came as no surprise to Fabian. When Agent Mick Campbell had been transferred to another unit, Jerome had pounced upon the chance to impress Mara, his long-time crush.

Personally, Fabian thought that Jerome was that one agent who put a few toes over the line more often than most and was overly interested in personal gain (and Mara). But Fabian respected Jerome for his ability to devise strategic, and many times witty, plans to pull the team out of sticky situations. That being said, Jerome was also a huge co-conspirator with Alfie when it came to pranks.

Mara, on the other hand, was the total opposite of Jerome. She could come off as shy but was the most logical agent in Fabian's team. She knew all the facts and was a big believer in rules, which scored her points in Victor's book. She was pretty, but not Fabian's type- more like Jerome's. Before Mick Campbell had been assigned to another unit, Mara had been in a relationship with him, but now that relationship was tentative and fuzzy around the edges.

"Victor's called a meeting in the conference room ASAP." Fabian informed them. Jerome made a face but Mara tugged his arm.

"Jerome." She said with extreme sincerity. "Let's go."

Fabian moved on to inform the last person in his FBI unit that there was a meeting going on.

"Eddie, there's a meeting in the conference room." Agent Eddie Miller was stuffing his face with another hoagie- again. Fabian usually found Eddie's addiction to those sandwiches amusing, but not today.

"Yeah, I'm going." Eddie sprang up from his desk, spraying crumbs everywhere.

Fabian followed Eddie, who also happened to be the best interrogator on the team, out of his office. They both headed down the hallway to the conference room where Victor and the rest of the Agents were waiting.

Fabian himself, along with Joy, had been unofficially dubbed the leader of the FBI's Elite Squad Seven. Apparently the other saw him as a nerd who was as steady as a rock when it came to this job and was fit to lead them in their battle against crime. Granted, Fabian was a bit nerdy, but he was a nerd who could kick butt in the field. Just give him a gun and the Interpol database and he could lead his team to solve any case.

Eddie and Fabian arrived at the conference room, where everyone else had already arrived. Victor glared at them for a second before beginning his long monologue.

"As you all know, this team has been hit by a devastating loss. Agent Joy Mercer has taken a long leave of absence-"

"She's been kidnapped!" Patricia shrieked, flying out of her seat. "I'm telling you guys- I know Joy! She would never just resign without giving us any reasons! If Joy had really resigned, wouldn't she still be in contact with all of us?"

"Sit down, Agent Williamson!" Victor barked. He and Patricia engaged in a glaring contest before she finally sat down. "As you all know, Agent Joy Mercer has resigned from her job. For what reasons, I cannot say. All I know is that she mailed me her resignation and I accepted it."

Fabian shuffled awkwardly in his seat. Patricia was right about one thing. Joy wouldn't resign so suddenly, and definitely not without telling him why.

"Since Agent Mercer will not be returning to the Bureau, we have found a replacement." Victor announced.

Replacement. Victor made it sound like Joy was an object or some sort of toy, that if she were broken, they could simply replace her with someone else. Fabian swallowed. It wasn't like that- he and Joy had been FBI Cadets together and had worked their ways up the ranks to get here. Who could replace his best friend?

"Agent Mercer's will be replaced by Agent Nina Martin." Victor announced.

The door of the conference room opened and a young woman stepped in. Fabian's jaw literally dropped open.

Agent Nina Martin was, debatably, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. There was a certain modesty about her that drew his attention. The fact that she had luscious blonde (or is it light brown?) hair and green eyes that sparkled with excitement (and perhaps glinted with a hint of madness- the good kind) didn't hurt either.

"You- you want to _replace_ Joy?" Patricia cried, voicing Fabian's earlier thoughts. "Well, I'm telling you one thing, Victor! I'm not accepting your replacement!" She finished her proclamation with one of her trademark sneers and stalked out of the room with the fury of a tempest.

"I'll go after her." Eddie muttered with a small sigh, hoagie vanquished to the depths of his stomach. He raced out of the room after Patricia.

Fabian turned to the front of the room once again, where Nina was standing there, looking as shocked as they all were. There was a long and awkward silence.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Nina." Fabian said with a smile that was half genuine, half apologetic. "Sorry about Patricia. I'm Fabian. Fabian Rutter."

"Um, hi." Nina's voice was as wonderful as the rest of her, but she seemed extremely inexperienced for a typical FBI Agent. "It's nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine." Fabian shook Nina's hand. The rest of the other agents got up and greeted Nina.

When the introductions had finished, Victor grumbled, "Now off you go, all of you! Back to work! I want to be able to hear a pin drop!" He held up his infamous pin, sending the agents scattering, before addressing Fabian.

"Fabian, show Agent Martin to her office. She is to work in Agent Mercer's old office." Fabian nodded and led Nina out of the conference room, not forgetting to hold the door open for her.

"So, do you guys do this every day?" Nina asked with a small smile. "Sit around doing paperwork?"

"Not quite," He told her, returning her smile. "This FBI unit _has _caught several kidnappers, sexual sadists, and serial killers throughout its career."

"Well, I'm honored to be partnered with the best of the best," Nina said as they entered Joy's old office.

Fabian flicked on the light. Joy's office hadn't been cleared out yet; papers were still stacked on the desk and notices, along with pictures, were still tacked onto the corkboard that hung on one wall.

"So, this is your new workplace!" Fabian said, the cheer in his voice a little forced. Even though Nina was beautiful, kind, and friendly, he couldn't help but miss and worry about Joy.

"Wow, it's really nice in here." Nina sat down at the desk. "Who's this? Is she your girlfriend?" She pointed at a framed picture of Joy and Fabian both laughing, most likely over some stupid joke.

Before he could answer, a snide voice that belonged to a certain redhead rang out. "That's not Fabian's girlfriend. That's his former partner, Joy Mercer- the agent you're _replacing._"

"Patricia!" Fabian cried indignantly. "Nina's not replacing Joy!"

"Yeah?" Patricia sneered. "It seems to me like she _is_."

"Look, I'm not here to replace anyone." Nina held up her hands in surrender. "I'm just here to do my job!"

"Yeah, and your job is to REPLACE JOY!" Patricia shouted the last two words accusingly, her eyes beaming a death glare at Nina.

"Hey-" Fabian pushed Patricia back. "Knock it off.""Fabian!" Jerome called, strolling in and taking in the sight of the angry Patricia. "Woah, guys, don't kill the messenger." He said.

"What is it?" Fabian asked, his patience wearing a bit thin.

"A package arrived for you," Jerome handed a plain brown box to him.

With an impatient sigh, Fabian tore open the parcel and opened the box.

He froze.

The box was empty, save for a single sheet of paper. It was a typed note- a note addressed to him.

_**Fabes,**_

_**You have to help me before it's too late. I don't know what's happened. I don't even know where I am. He's got me and I don't know what he plans to do next.**_

_**Help me, please.**_

_**Joy**_

When Fabian finished reading it, his hands were shaking so badly that he could barely hold onto the piece of paper.

"What does it mean?" Nina asked in a hushed whisper, eyes wide and frightened. Behind her, Jerome's mouth was wide open. Patricia's eyes were accusing, screaming, _I told you so!_

"It means," Fabian whispered, every nerve in his body screaming at him to do something, to go save his former partner. "That Joy may have been kidnapped."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yay. Crappy cliffhanger. This chapter was basically intros and stuff. I hope to pick up the action later on…**

**Seriously, though, if you read that whole chapter, thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed it and that you didn't find it incredibly boring. If you wish to click that button down there and review, I would be honored. Feedback helps me improve my writing, plus it makes me feel happy inside.**

**Chapter 2 will be up…sometime…can't say if it'll be soon, though. I have a busy weekend and stuffs, so I can't promise anything, but I can say that I HOPE to be finished with Chapter 2 by Monday. Hope being the key word.**

**Anyways, sorry for the long Author's notes! Thank you for reading! :D**** (and possibly reviewing?)**

_**Proxima Tempus.**_


	2. Answers

**A/N: Hey guys! A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed. I am unashamed to admit that I did Nina's happy/fangirl dance when I read your wonderful reviews.**

**Echo101: I plan on adding Mick to the story in a later chapter (around Chapter 4?), don't worry! I'm not sure yet if Moy will be included, considering Joy's kind of being held hostage at the moment.**

**Fabinafan4life: I'm thinking that Fabian and Nina will probably develop feelings for each other around the same time…but angst will be added. I plan on having Namber and Mickbian will come into play in later chapters. Thanks for your advice! :D**

**Thank you to those who reviewed, and without further ado, I present to you Chapter 2~!**

* * *

><p>"You have to believe me!"<p>

"I'm sorry, but this evidence isn't substantial." Victor said, stroking his beard.

"Not substantial?" Fabian said, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. Now he knew how Patricia had felt, trying to convince everyone that Joy had been kidnapped. They'd all thought she was crazy, but in reality, Patricia was right. Joy had been kidnapped.

Why wouldn't Victor believe him?

"A piece of paper isn't substantial enough for me to launch an entire investigation," Victor replied, his tone making it clear that his patience was wearing thin. "Anyone- Patricia, for example- could've typed up that note and sent it to you. Just because it was signed by 'Joy' doesn't mean that she sent it."

"Joy was the only one who called me Fabes." Fabian retorted. "Doesn't that prove something?"

"Mr. Rutter, you're becoming desperate." Victor snapped. "Desperate to believe that this note was sent by Joy. The stark truth is, anyone around here could have known that Agent Mercer called you Fabes. Take Patricia, for example."

"Are you saying Patricia sent me this note?" Fabian practically snarled. It was one thing for Victor to not believe him about the note from Joy, but it was another thing entirely for Victor to question the loyalty of Fabian's friends and fellow agents.

"The only thing I'm saying is that this note proves nothing. I received a note of resignation from Agent Mercer herself, and there is no cause for alarm." Victor lectured. "I understand that you are confused by Agent Mercer's sudden resignation and that you may even feel betrayed, but this is ridiculous. Agent Mercer was not kidnapped, and I will not be launching an official investigation."

Fabian struggled to keep his anger in check. If he made a wrong move, Victor could have him kicked out of this unit, and possibly the entire FBI, for insubordination.

"Fine." He practically spat. "If you don't want to do anything about it- fine." Fabian stalked out of the room.

"Agent Rutter!" Victor called. Fabian stopped, lips drawn together in a tight line. "Any more ludicrous claims and shenanigans on your part would be… costly for your career, Agent Rutter. Do you understand?"

Fabian seethed with fury, and it took all of his willpower to turn around, face Victor, and say, "Yes, Mr. Rodenmaar. I understand."

"Good." Victor turned away and began to stroke Corbierre's head, having made his point.

* * *

><p>"What's wrong?" Nina asked when Fabian stormed by her office, still in a foul mood.<p>

Fabian wiped the scowl off of his face, and it was replaced by a tired look, the corners of his mouth turned downwards in a weary frown.

"Oh, it's just Victor," He waved a hand, not wanting to worry her. "Nothing that's important." The lie slipped off of his tongue easily.

"It's about that agent, isn't it?" Nina asked, her thin brown eyebrows shooting up. "The one who was here before me. What's her name? Joy, right?"

"Yeah, it's about Joy." Fabian told her, his voice thick with conflicting emotions.

"That would explain why you're holding that note in your hand." Nina pointed to the note Fabian had received earlier, the one that had shocked them so badly. Fabian, Nina, and Patricia hadn't told anyone but Victor about it. Jerome, however, was probably going to be a different story.

"Do you really think she was kidnapped?" Nina asked him.

Fabian stepped inside her office, lowering his voice as if talking about this subject was taboo.

"I don't know for certain, but I think so, yeah." He swallowed, fists tightening. Then, he remembered he was holding Joy's note and loosened his death grip on the piece of paper.

"Why do you think so?" Nina queried.

"I've known Joy for a long time." Fabian said. "We've been friends and partners for…forever, practically. It doesn't seem like her to suddenly abandon us without telling _any_ of us why she resigned. Plus, she left all of her stuff here…" His voice trailed off.

"You mean this?" Nina handed him the picture of him and Joy laughing. "I think you should have it."

Fabian took the picture, trying to think of something to say to her. As cliché as it was, when he looked her in the eye, a shiver traveled up his spine- the good kind.

"Thank you," He said, giving her a quick hug. Was it just his imagination, or was she blushing?

"It's nothing," Nina said. "But I do have one question. Were you two… going out or something?"

_Would you be disappointed if I said yes? _Fabian what he said was, "No, no, we weren't an item. Just good friends, like I hope we can be." He smiled at Nina.

"Of course, friends it is." Nina beamed at him. Fabian hoped his disappointment didn't shine clearly in his eyes. Was it bad that he'd only known this girl for less than a day and he wanted to be _more_ than friends?

"Hey, you guys!" Amber poked her head through the doorway. "Woah!" She said. "Am I, like, interrupting some fabulous Fabina time?"

"Fabina?" Fabian and Nina cried at the same time."You know, like Fabian plus Nina equals Fabina?" Amber said her in her _duh_ voice. "Simple math, you two."

Fabian shook his head incredulously. "What do you want, Amber?"

"Oh, I'm just here to tell you that we have a new case." Amber became the tiniest bit more solemn. "We're meeting in the conference room."

"Go ahead with Amber," Fabian told Nina. "I'll catch up with you two."

The two agents walked off to the conference room while Fabian ducked into his office. He opened one of the drawers of his desk and placed the photo of him and Joy in it, along with the note from Joy.

_**You have to help me before it's too late.**_

Those words kept jumping out at him, tearing into his heart. What if he couldn't save Joy before it was too late? Fabian didn't know if he could forgive himself if something happened to her.

Finally, he tore himself from the note and closed the drawer. Fabian knew that he couldn't let anything happen to Joy, so he steeled himself. He would find Joy, no matter what it took.

"Hey, you coming?" Fabian looked up to see Alfie at the threshold.

"Oh, yeah, I'm coming." He said, following Alfie to the conference room. The rest of his team was already there, waiting for Amber to begin.

"Fabian!" Mara shot up. "Is it true?"

He blinked in confusion. "What's true?" He asked Mara.

"Jerome told me that you got a note…from Joy. And he told me that Joy was kidnapped." Mara scanned Fabian's face to see his reaction, which was to open and close his mouth like a drowning fish.

"It's true." Nina whispered softly. Any other person, and Fabian would've melted them with a death glare.

A shocked hush settled over the room as all of the agents took in the news. Joy Mercer, who had led them for years, who could still laugh at Alfie and Jerome's corny jokes, even after all of the depraved things she'd seen, had been kidnapped. What horrors had befallen her?

"I told you all." Patricia's voice held no trace of gloating like Fabian had expected. Instead, she sounded really pissed off.

"But did any of you believe me? No!"

"Agent Williamson!" Victor had entered the room, and Patricia clammed up at his words. "As I told Agent Rutter, we are not going to launch an investigation, because there's nothing to investigate."

Patricia glowered at Victor while the rest of the agents sat in stunned silence. After a moment, Amber cleared her throat.

"Um, as I was saying, our unit has a new case." Amber turned on the T.V. screen at one end of the conference room.

"There have been a recent string of robberies in D.C. lately." Amber announced. "Museums, high end boutiques, houses, you name it."

"Two questions," Alfie said. "How do we know these robberies are connected? And if they're just robberies, why are we handling it and not the local police?"

Amber let out an exasperated sigh. "Alfie, you're my boyfriend, but do you _have_ to make me think so much?" Everyone laughed shakily, even Fabian.

"But to answer your first question, Alfie," Amber smiled at him. "We know these robberies are connected because of this." She clicked a button on her remote and several pictures popped up on the T.V. screen.

Pictures of all of the crime scenes popped up, and in each one there was an item missing. In one picture, a glass case had been busted open, shards of glass scattered everywhere, the valuable item stolen.

"In each robbery, the perpetrator only stole one item." Amber informed them. "An artifact of some sort relating to Ancient Egypt. In one home, the robber stole the _actual _mask of King Tutankhamen. At a museum, the Mask of Anubis was stolen, and in yet another robbery, the Cup of Ankh and the Eye of Horus necklace were stolen."

"The reason the FBI is taking on this case," Amber continued. "is because special circumstances have come up." She clicked another button and pictures of corpses covered the screen, all lying in pools of their own blood.

"Several people have been murdered in this investigation, not to mention that at the last robbery, the robber left us a little note: _I won't stop until the old empire arises._" Fabian shivered. Great, they weren't just dealing with a master robber and a killer; he was also a complete psychopath.

"So, do we have _any_ idea who's behind all of this psychotic trickery?" Jerome asked, leaning back in his chair lazily.

"Actually, we do." Amber pulled up a photo from the surveillance footage of one of the houses where the crime had been committed.

A masked marauder was smashing open a glass case, semi-automatic rifle in hand. He wore a hooded black robe, which Fabian found not only odd but creepy. The strangest thing about the man, though, was the mask he wore.

The mask was painted blue, black, red, and gold. It was separated into diamond sections, and the nose and mouth were painted gold while the forehead was painted blue. The diamond section over the man's right eye was painted black, and the diamond section over his left eye was painted red.

"This is the man behind these murders and robberies, and the media has already given him a name." Amber told Fabian and the other agents. Suddenly, Fabian remembered seeing this man on the news.

"I remember!" He said quickly. "Didn't they call him…" He trailed off, trying to recall the hooded figure's name.

"The Collector." Nina finished, remembering the name before Fabian did. "They called him the Collector because he stole all these Egyptian artifacts."Amber nodded, looking uncharacteristically grim. "And the Collector won't stop stealing, or killing, until we find him."

Fabian stood up, his demeanor resolute. "Let's go, guys. We have a criminal to catch."

* * *

><p>Fabian, Eddie, Amber, Patricia, and Nina arrived at the museum that had been transformed into a crime scene. Media swarmed outside of the building, reminding Fabian of the way flies swarmed an animal carcass.<p>

When the team stepped out of their Sedans, Kevlar vests with the monogrammed letters FBI on the back, (minus Amber, who was wearing an simple but beautiful dress) flashing cameras and microphones were shoved at their faces.

"Do you know who the Collector is?" One voice called out.

"What is the FBI going to do to ensure the people's safety?"

"When do you predict the Collector will strike again?"

"Excuse me!" Amber called, her voice oddly cheerful. "If you'll follow me, I will answer all of your questions!"

It worked like a charm. All of the media crews flocked after Amber like sheep after their shepherd, leaving Fabian, Nina, Patricia, and Eddie clear to enter the museum.

The CSIs (Crime Scene Investigators) were exiting the scene as Fabian and the other entered.

"Hey!" Eddie called. "Did you guys find anything good?" The CSIs shook their heads mournfully.

"This guy is good," One of them said. "No fingerprints, blood stains, hairs, skin traces, no nothing. A real pro."

"Great," Patricia muttered. "Thanks for the great news. This day has been getting better and better. When's it going to stop?"

"Oh god," Nina's face blanched as they walked into the museum's lobby, the beginning of the carnage.

Fabian had seen a lot of sick, horrible things in his lifetime, but this was, undoubtedly, at the top of his list.

Two museum guards lay on the ground, bodies cold and lifeless. Their faces were a mangled mass of crushed, shattered bone and bloodied flesh. They'd been shot in the face at close range, and the force of the blast had sheared the skin off of their faces, revealing the bloody flesh, which had been mangled beyond recognition. The guards' skulls had been shattered, and their brains probably hadn't fared much better.

"Someone get me a barf bag," Patricia groaned. Eddie patted her shoulder comfortingly, and Patricia was so stressed that she didn't even tell him off.

"Well…" Fabian sighed grimly. "Let's get started. Do we have an I.D. on these guards?"

"Yeah," Eddie snapped on a latex glove and picked up two I.D.s that the CSIs had left on a table in a neat pile. "Happy Face Number One's name is Darryl Jenkins, and Happy Face Number Two is Julius White."

"You should show more respect to the dead," Nina said softly.

Eddie merely shrugged. "They're dead. Wherever they are now, they can't hear me."

"Still…they deserve respect." Nina said. She paused, seeming to debate whether to say something or not. "I mean, my own parents died in a car accident with a drunk driver when I was little." The rest of them lapsed into a stunned silence.

"I- I'm sorry Nina." Fabian stumbled over his words, something that was rare with him. He wanted to comfort Nina, as if her parents had just died.

Eddie cleared his throat, which only served to add to the awkward tension in the room. "I'm sorry too, Nina. I didn't mean to be so callous…" He trailed off uncertainly.

"It's okay," Nina let out a sigh, looking rather tired. "Well, I mean, about you being callous. I know you didn't mean it."

"Um, guys?" Patricia snapped her fingers, interrupting their conversation. "We've got a robbery and some murders to solve, yeah?"

"Right. The Collector." Eddie said, pointing towards another section of the museum. "That's where the Egyptian artifacts were on display before they were stolen."

The four agents walked over to examine the display, where shattered glass adorned the floor, sparkling like gems. The display case's lock was still intact, but the three-inch thick glass was shattered into tiny fragments. Many of the Egyptian artifacts were still in the case, but one was missing- the Mask of Anubis. At the foot of the wrecked display case lay two more museum guards, faces as mangled as the last pair.

"Willy Hubbard and Patrick Grad." Eddie said solemnly, holding back any comments.

"Did we get any blood on the glass?" Fabian asked Patricia, hoping that they'd have a stroke of luck. If the Collector had cut himself, they could retrieve valuable DNA.

"No." Patricia answered. "The CSIs didn't find any traces of blood anywhere. Didn't you hear them say that?" Fabian shook his head and Patricia plowed on with her monologue. "I'm guessing that the Collector just smashed through the glass with his semi-automatic rifle."

"He left us this." Nina said softly, pointing at the inside of the glass case.

The Collector had painted an Egyptian symbol on the inside of the glass case where the Mask of Anubis had once lay. It resembled an eye and was red, probably a literal blood red, now that Fabian came to think of it. He wouldn't put it past the Collector to smear a bit of the dead guards' blood on the display.

"The Eye of Horus. It represents protection and good health." Nina whispered.

"He's mocking us," Eddie snarled. "Four men are dead while he's alive and healthy, not to mention the fact that he has three ancient Egyptian artifacts in his possession: the Eye of Horus necklace, the Mask of Anubis, and the Cup of Ankh."

"We need to think." Fabian told them. "Why would the Collector want these items?"

"Money?" Patricia asked. "That's what everyone wants."

Eddie shook his head. "Hate to disagree with you, Yakker, but I don't think so. They named him the Collector for a reason, you know. He's been hoarding these items for himself, whoever he is."

"Plus there was that odd note that he left," Nina said. "The Collector said, 'I won't stop until the old empire arises.' That sounds like he's trying to overthrow the U.S. Government, or at least something along those lines."

"But how would Egyptian artifacts help him overthrow the U.S. Government?" Patricia asked impatiently. No one had an answer.

"Hey!" They all turned at the sound of Amber's voice. The blonde girl waltzed over to them, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

"Good news!" The FBI Liaison said, waving her cell phone. "Jerome, Alfie, and Mara just inspected the other crime scenes. They said that there was a definite pattern to the Collector's methods. He parks nearby using a motorcycle, conceals his weapon, storms the place, shoots some people, steals the stuff he wants, and paints some eye thingy. Ooh, Neens, I like your shoes!" Amber shot an envious look at Nina's platforms.

"Thanks," Nina smiled.

"Has the thought of wearing _practical _shoes ever occurred to you?" Patricia grumbled. Fabian shot her a glare, which the redhead returned readily.

"So, getting back on topic," Eddie said, popping a piece of gum in his mouth. "We know that the Collector kills people to steal stuff, leaves a eye painted in blood at each crime scene, and is most likely trying to somehow overthrow the U.S. Government."

"Typical," Patricia grumbled. "Our FBI Unit gets stuck with the psychopathic, killer terrorist."

"There's one thing I don't get." Nina said. "How does stealing these Egyptian artifacts help the Collector overthrow the government?"

"Maybe he's crazy." Amber suggested. Her cell phone bleeped and she whipped it out, texting up a storm.

Suddenly, in his peripheral vision, Fabian spotted a movement in the shadows. He whipped out his pistol faster than Amber had pulled out her phone and aimed it at the shadows. Patricia and Eddie had seen the movement, too, and their guns were aimed in the same direction as Fabian's not a second later.

"FBI!" Fabian bellowed. "Put your hands up!"

Cautiously, a man stepped into the light. He was just a teenager, probably no older than 16, and held a plain manila envelope in his hand.

"Hey, woah, what's going on?" the kid said, fear and nervousness evident in his tone.

"Who are you and who sent you?" Nina asked, her own gun held levelly at the boy's chest. None of the agents had lowered their weapons yet, minus Amber, who didn't carry a pistol.

The boy swallowed nervously. "This guy approached me and said he'd pay me fifty bucks if I went to this museum and gave it to the person it's addressed to." The boy squinted at the envelope. "It's addressed to an Agent Fabian Rutter." He read.

Fabian's hand shook almost imperceptibly. "This guy who paid you fifty bucks, what did he look like?"

"He was wearing a black robe, and his face was hooded so I didn't get a good look at it." The boy shrugged. "Why, what's going on?"

"Nothing." Patricia snapped. "Hand over the envelope."

"Wait, you're all FBI." Beads of sweat popped up on the boy's forehead. "What's going on?"

"It's none of your business," Patricia barked rather unprofessionally, snatching the envelope from the boy. "Here, Fabian." She handed him the envelope, and a feeling of dread caused his stomach to sink like a stone.

There was only one person this could be from.

He pulled a crisp piece of paper out of the manila envelope, and on it was another typed note. Fabian felt a dreadful, ironic sense of déjà vu.

**Hello, Agent Rutter. Or should I call you 'Fabes?'**

**What I call you, however, is beside the point. The point is, I know you're looking for me. You're also looking for your... lost friend, aren't you? Joy Mercer?**

**Oh dear, I seem to be rambling again. What I meant to say, Agent Rutter, is that you're looking for answers.**

**I can give you answers.**

**Go to the abandoned warehouse on the corner of West Main and Monroe Boulevard at 10:00 p.m. tonight, and there you will find your answers.**

**Cheers, Agent Rutter. I look forward to our battle of wills and wits.**

Fabian's heartbeat had tripled, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"Who's it from?" Nina asked breathlessly, eyes wide as she finished reading the note.

"Who else?" Fabian laughed bitterly. "The Collector sent this."

"He's playing a game with you, Fabian." Eddie said, eyes flashing. "Don't play along!"

Fabian knew that Eddie was right. The Collector was intelligent, organized, and determined. Dangerous. He was playing a deadly game, daring Fabian to join.

"I need answers," Fabian said. "About this," here he gestured at the shattered glass and mutilated guards. "And about...Joy."

"He doesn't have the answers!" Eddie cried. "You know that, Fabian! He's just pretending to know about Joy so you'll come!"

"I'm going." Fabian said, voice steely. "Are you all with me or against me?"

Silence greeted him.

"We need to find Joy." Patricia said. "I'm in."

Everyone else remained silent.

"Well?" Fabian snapped.

"It's dangerous. But I trust you, Fabian." Nina said slowly, and the smile she gave him lifted a weight off of his heart.

"Thanks," he said, putting as much emotion into that one word as he could.

"Well, if Nina's in, I guess I am too." Amber shrugged.

"Fine." Eddie huffed. "I'll succumb to peer pressure, just this once."

"Alright," Fabian smiled at the rest of his team. "Let's get moving!"

There were answers to find.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: GASP. THE COLLECTOR, GUIZE! Dun dun dun... Jk it wasn't that shocking, was it?**

**Bleh. This took me awhile to write, and I felt like it wasn't my best and that Eddie was OOC, (what the heck they all seem OOC to me) but oh well.**

**I have a bunch of exams coming up, so I don't know how much I'll be able to write, but I'll try to update this by the end of the week. I have Chapters 3-5 roughly planned out, so hopefully it won't take that long. Oh, and if you see spelling/grammar mistakes, tell me! I didn't have time to edit this chapter... -_-**

**Thanks for reading, guys! Hoped you enjoyed it! Reviews are the best! :D Have a nice day! Or Night, depending on what time it is!**

_**Proxima Tempus**_

**_~Joylix_**


	3. Bombs and Bullets

**A/N: Well hello there. Welcome to INCREDIBLY OVERDUE update of this rather odd fanfiction. If you've stuck around long enough to read this... I love you so much. Sorry for the late update... inspiration has just been lacking lately.**

**Be prepared for a bit of OOC-ness, considering I haven't watched HoA in forever. D; Thanks to JessIstheBest**

* * *

><p>Nina's slender fingers fumbled along the fringe of his shirtsleeve, their tapered, graceful appearance rather deceptive.<p>

"I can't do it!" she cried in exasperation.

Fabian chuckled- he couldn't help it. Her exasperation was adorable, and she was so close that he saw the faint blush under her skin, tinting her cheeks a rosy color.

"Relax," He attempted what he thought was a reassuring smile. For some reason, being around Nina made Fabian feel incredibly self-conscious, as if he were once again a hormone-riddled teenage boy in high school.

Nina sighed, her frame slumping slightly. "It's such a pity that they never taught us how to do this at the FBI Academy.""Here," Fabian smiled again. He took the wire and fastened it onto the inside of his sleeve. "Now I'm officially wired. Hopefully the Collector wasn't kidding when he said he'd spill some secrets, although knowing how psychopathic killers are, we're probably not going to learn much."

"But what we do know will be recorded by the wire," Nina stated, tapping the thin metal wire on the inside of his shirt. "I have to admire your genius, Fabian."

Suddenly, Fabian was overcome by the sudden, burning desire to kiss her, to let his lips crash onto hers. There was an awkward moment of uncertainty, where possibility hung heavily in the air. He leaned in slightly and caught a hint of peppermint from her skin, sweet and chilly.

And then, he jerked back.

The intoxicating scent of peppermint vanished almost entirely, although he could've sworn that a trace lingered in the air, but perhaps it was just his fevered brain.

_No. _Fabian told himself. _You can't do this. You have to think professionally._

Nina's cheeks became an endearing shade of crimson, and she took a sudden, riveting interest in the floor. An awkward silence hung in the air, so heavy that it pressed on Fabian's ears.

"Are you ready?" Amber popped into the room. At the sight of Fabian and Nina together, her eyes widened.

"Oh my god!" the blonde shrieked. "Please tell me that I didn't just totally ruin a Fabina moment!"

"Amber!" Nina groaned, her cheeks flushing a pleasant shade of red.

With a huffy sigh, Agent Millington stepped back and tossed her blonde locks over her shoulder. "Well," she said, drawing out the word. "Are you ready, Fabes? The Collector's waiting."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be." Fabian shook his head in a grim sort of fashion. He caught Nina's smile and looked away hurriedly._ What's wrong with you? Get a grip, _he snarled at himself.

Fabian stepped outside, and a cool night breeze tousled his hair. It was dark on the narrow street, save for a single flickering streetlamp that illuminated a patch of concrete in its gaudy orange light. Despite the ominous quality of the situation, it felt rather cliché, meeting a serial killer in an abandoned warehouse at the dead of night. Fabian stepped out into the street, and the loose asphalt cracked beneath his shoe.

Fabian glanced backwards, but Amber and Nina had already disappeared into the shadows. A dilapidated coupe with tinted windows was parked down the street, and Agent Mara and Agent Clarke were seated inside, supposedly monitoring Fabian's wire. However, Fabian wouldn't have been surprised if they ended up snogging the entire time.

The warehouse where he was supposed to meet the infamous Collector had fallen into disrepair long ago. Fabian pushed the door open, and it squealed in protest, flakes of reddish rush raining on the ground. Inside, he was greeted by darkness and a silence that crushed his eardrums.

A deep sense of foreboding rose in his chest, and his first instinct was to grab his gun. Dark shadows leered at him from every crevice, and a sinister tapping sound echoed faintly throughout the decrepit halls. High above, the corroded ceiling steel beams creaked, almost as if they were straining to be freed from the weight of carrying the warehouse.

Fabian's fingers brushed the smooth, metal surface of his standard-issue handgun, and as a second nature, he drew it out. He didn't like this- not at all. It was too shady, too sketchy. Besides, when did FBI agents trust serial killers? How about... never.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears, deafening in the silence. And then, his ears perk up again, and Fabian can hear the sound of footsteps. His muscles tense, and adrenaline courses through his veins, setting fire to his nerves.

"Who's there?" he demanded, an authoritative ring to his tone. Of course, he didn't expect an answer, but it was worth a try. "Come out with your hands up!"

To his everlasting surprise, someone does respond. A woman stepped out of the shadows, blond and in her mid-forties. However, the most prominent aspect about her is probably the fact that's she has a pistol leveled at Fabian's heart.

"You move, you die." she hissed. "Drop the weapon, _Agent Rutter._" She said his name with such a sneering loathing that Fabian can't help but inwardly flinch.

"Afraid I can't do that." Fabian said, voice surprisingly cool despite the situation.

"Then I'm afraid I'll have to shoot you," the woman said.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you. There's a sniper on the roof, ready to take you down." Fabian informed her. His hands were steady, and the point of his gun did not waver.

The woman paused for a moment, as if assessing this new development. "You're bluffing." she replied after a moment, although her voice held a note of uncertainty.

"No one likes to die," Fabian assured her. "And I can tell you right now that I am not bluffing, and if you try to shoot me, my agent, Agent Miller, will snipe you, and you'll be dead before you even know you've been shot." The woman pursed her lips, looking as if she had just bitten into a lemon. The gun in her hand wavered slightly.

"I'll take my chances," she hissed as she pulled the trigger.

_Bang!_ The shot rang out, deafening in the once-dead silence. There was a dull pain in his abdomen, and then the shadows whisper in his ear.

_Good-bye, Fabian, _they whispered_. Go to sleep._

He had no choice but to obey.

* * *

><p>"<em>So… do you want to go grab some tea?" Fabian asked. His co-leader's face broke into a grin.<em>

"_Only you would want to go get some tea, of all things." Joy laughed, rolling her eyes. "What's wrong with a nice, American cup of coffee?"_

"_Fine. Do you want to grab a cup of _coffee_?" he tried again._

"_Sure, I'd love to," she said. "Let me just find a place to put this report…" They both scanned Joy's office for a clean surface to place the file in her hands, and they both failed. The room was littered with mountains of papers and files._

_"Someone has a little bit of paperwork to complete..." Fabian teased. In reality, Joy was the more field-oriented agent, jumping for the chance to lead a riskier operation. However, she never wrote up reports and failed, with astonishing frequency, to turn in files. Unlike Joy, Fabian found nothing sinister in mounds of reports to be written. His office was, to coin the phrase, as clean as a whistle._

"_Eh, whatever." Joy tossed the file on top of a stack of papers on the floor, effectively knocking them over. Fabian laughed._

"_Seriously, one of these days we're going to take a day off and have the whole team rally in an effort to help you clean up your office," he said to her. Joy only laughed, the melodic sound echoing across the nearly empty FBI headquarter halls._

"_I think we'd all drown in paper," she joked. Joy attempted to step out from behind her desk, but the mountains of paper constrained her movement, and she ended up tripping._

"_Ow," was all she said as she clutched Fabian's arm to pull herself up. "That was mildly embarrassing."_

"_The great Agent Mercer with an impeccable case record, felled by a stack of paper. Interesting," he joked, helping her navigate through the rest of the papery labyrinth._

"_Oh, shut up." She grinned at him good-naturedly, swatting him on the arm. "Do I need to remind you about who beat you at the firearms test last weekend?"_

"_I only missed the last head shot because the gun was jammed- I swear!" At Joy's disbelieving smile, all Fabian could do was sigh in mock-frustration. "You're never going to let me hear the end of that one, are you?"_

"_No, never," she says teasingly. For some odd reasons, he takes notice of the fact that she smells like springtime. It's stupid, but he notices it. And for a second, all Fabian could do was stand there like an utter idiot, trying to form comprehensive sentences._

"_Fabes?" Her voice surfaces him back into the present. He blinked several times, trying to get his bearings._

"_Huh?" he stuttered. "What?"_

"_Well…" Joy said. "You coming to get some coffee or not?"_

"_Yeah," he replied. "Coffee sounds great."_

* * *

><p>"Hey," a musical voice rang out, and darkness greeted his eyes. Fabian gave a noncommittal grunt. Whoever this person was, couldn't they let him sleep?<p>

"Fabian?" The voice was quivering now, trembling like a leaf in the wind.

He managed to crack open an eyelid, but the brightness seared his eyes, so he closed them quickly. The sliver of light left a dancing white pattern imprinted on the inside of his eyelid. The sound of his heart pumping blood thudded in his ears like a timpani, increasing the severity of Fabian's headache.

"Is he awake?" It was Amber's voice, hushed with worry.

With great effort, Fabian opened his eyes. For a while, he was blinded by the whiteness. But when his vision finally cleared, Fabian saw several people standing above him, lines of worry etched on their features.

"Nina?" he managed to croak. The angelic face gave way to a smile, and some of the anxious lines on her face gave way to a look relief.

"Fabian! You're awake! Thank god!" Nina's arms engulfed him, crushing him in a hug surprisingly strong for one of her stature.

"What..." he asked, voice slurred with the presence of drugs. "What happened?" He can remember darkness, a sound, like a clap of thunder, ringing through his ears, and a dull, throbbing pain in his abdomen.

"Fabian!" Jerome and Mara crashed through the doorway. Mara's face was tinged a rosy shade of pink.

"We're all glad you're awake!" Jerome kept his arm slung around Mara's shoulders. "We've been waiting outside for at least eight hours. It's a good thing you were wearing your kevlar vest."

"I was... shot?" Fabian asked tentatively.

"In the stomach, mate." Jerome nodded in, what was for him, a solemn fashion. "The bullet didn't pierce your skin, thanks to that bulletproof vest of yours, but there's a nasty bruise there."

Fabian lifted up his shirt, which was rather difficult, granted that he had several IV drips attached to his arms. Underneath his shirt, on the skin of his abdomen, a greenish-purple bruise about the size of an orange was blossoming. He tried to sit up and groaned as a dull pain coursed through his body.

"How long am I going to be out of commission?" he groaned.

"Depends on how well you tolerate pain," Mara said softly. "If you really wanted to, you could be up and walking by this afternoon."

Fabian let out a sigh. "Did you guys get anything from last night's operation?"

"Well, we did find out who... shot you," Nina said, a pleased smile breaking onto her face. She pulled out a thick paper file from under her arm, and from the folder, she procured a picture of the blonde-haired woman who had shot Fabian. There were wrinkles on the woman's face, and her eyes glared stonily at Fabian from the photocopied image.

"That's Vera Deevenish!" Amber squealed. "I cross-referenced her picture with the international database and found her. Apparently, she was a totally evil criminal in Egypt. Seriously, she had a record sheet that was longer than my hair. She moved to the U. S. several months ago, but after that, it's like she's off the grid."

"So..." Fabian paused. "is she the Collector?"

"Um..." This was Mara. "I don't think so, Fabian. Vera shows cunning, certainly, but she's almost _always_ following someone's orders. For example, in a Cairo bombing that occurred five years ago, Vera was caught by officials while attempting to plant a C-4 bomb that could've killed quite a lot of people. But in custody, she finally confessed that she'd been working for a man named 'Rilian.'"

"Then based on your calculations, Mara, Vera Deevenish is not our infamous Collector," Fabian clarified.

"No, I highly doubt it." Mara said. "Although I'm very willing to bet that she was working for him."

"I'll bet you for it," Jerome jabbed her lightly in the stomach, a devilish grin on his face.

"Jerome Clarke! Now is not the time!" Amber scowled. "We've got a serial killer to catch!"

"That's right," Fabian nodded his approval at the liaison. "Amber, can you get me everything, and I mean _everything, _that there is to know about Vera?"

Amber nodded enthusiastically. "If it exists, I can find it! ...Probably."

"Good," Fabian told her. "I want connections, family members, visas, bank accounts down to the last penny ..."

"You got it, Fabian!" Amber grinned.

"Wait!" Patricia suddenly burst into the room. "Turn on the telly!"

Nina grabbed the remote and switched on the television. On the screen was a pile of rubble. Small fires sprang up from the ruins of what Fabian guessed was once a restaurant, a franchise that was fairly rare on Capitol Hill. Firemen and police cruisers swarmed the site, and the sound of wailing ambulance sirens blared from the television.

"What?" Nina gasped. "What's going on?"

_"We regret to report that there was a massive bombing at one of Washington's restaurant businesses. There is no word from Homeland Security on whether this is a potential terrorist attack. Police and Firefighters are swarming the scene, searching for a sign of life. The F.B.I. is not currently available for a statement."_

The reporter's grave face disappeared as the cameraman zoomed in to focus on the charred rubble. The entire team let out a gasp.

"Is that...?" Jerome asked with a mixture of fear and awe.

"It is." Patricia said grimly.

They could all see it, plain as day. Painted on one of the crumbling, half-fallen walls of the bombed restaurant, was the blood-red symbol of the Eye of Horus.

"It's the Collector." a new voice called. The team shifted their gazes towards the doorway, and, with the exception of Nina, they gasped.

"Mick?" Fabian was sure that his eyes were as wide as tea saucers. "What are you doing here?"

"You guys need a bomb expert?" Mick laughed wryly. "You've got one. Every bomber has a signature, the Collector included. If he left any clues in this bombing of his, I'll find them." The blond haired boy nodded resolutely.

"Glad to have you back, mate!" Fabian grinned. Mick was like a brother to him, and he sure wouldn't mind having several extra hands on this case.

They all turned back to the television, where the news was still running. Phrases ran through Fabian's mind like water.

_Bomb squad... terrorist attack... 37 estimated dead... several gravely injured... paramedics on the scene..._And all the while, the bloody Eye of Horus stared back at Fabian.

_I have your partner, I've killed so many people, I've almost killed you,_ the Collector's voice hissed tauntingly in his mind. _You're losing the game, Fabian._

_I will catch you,_ Fabian vowed. _I will catch you._

The Eye of Horus seemed to wink.

_Catch me if you dare, Agent Rutter. If you dare._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: LOL GUYS SORRY FOR THE SHOT AND AWFUL CHAPTER. Sorry for my failed attempts at fluff... I'M SORRY FOR EVERYTHING. Bleh.**

**But yeah, the Collector just exploded a bunch of people and Vera's dead (You know you're happy). And yes, that was my failed attempt at Fabina fluff...**

**Technically 'Nina' is going to be gone next season and all... (not sure how to feel about these developments) but of course, she'll still be in the story.**

_**Proxima Tempus**_

_**~JL**_


End file.
